


(Heaven or) Hell

by HorsemanOnTheHellmouth



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Afterlife fic, Alternate Universe - Hell, F/M, Oral Sex, Sarcasm, Sexy Choking, Tags May Change, Unhelpful Pets, Vaginal Fingering, later on Papa apologises for the Unsexy Choking with, unsexy choking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 15:45:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17428823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorsemanOnTheHellmouth/pseuds/HorsemanOnTheHellmouth
Summary: After a fatal car accident, you find yourself waking up in a church where Papa Emeritus III is spending his days with wine and fancy cheese and not at all expecting a human to show up at his place. At first he thinks you're a demon come to have a bit of a romp- but, after a few mishaps, he realises that you actually are here by accident. With no apparent way out of Hell, you find yourself falling fast for the devilish pope, and he feels the same. It seems that you’ll be revelling here forevermore….(Not as Mills and Boon as it sounds, I promise!)





	(Heaven or) Hell

**Author's Note:**

> **THIS FIC IS WRITTEN WITH A FEMALE READER WITH FEMALE GENITALIA. If this isn't you're thing, don't read this.**
> 
>  
> 
> **IMPORTANT NOTICES YOU SHOULD READ:**
> 
> \- In my headcanons, in Hell all your ailments are cured. Therefore if you wear glasses, BAM! Perfect vision. Back problems? Gone. Unfit as heck? You're good to run a marathon now.
> 
> \- Also, I headcanon that the Emeritus line (i.e Papa III) have some demon blood in them, which gives them some powers such as Teleportation, Object Manifestation etc. as well as some Fancy FangsTM. That demon blood also makes him pretty strong so don't worry about crushing him or having him pick you up ;)
> 
> \- Papa's got his own lil' chunk of hell that's hard to access because he's a servant of the Old One, which comes with some perks. 
> 
> \- THESE SEX SCENES DO NOT IN ANY WAY REPRESENT SAFE OR SANE SEX. IN REAL LIFE, ALWAYS TRY TO USE A CONDOM (unless you're trying to conceive) AND NEVER, EVER TRY BREATH PLAY UNLESS YOU OR YOUR PARTNER ARE EXPERIENCED WITH IT AND EVEN THEN YOU CAN EASILY KILL SOMEONE BY CHOKING THEM. BE ULTRA ULTRA CAREFUL AND HAVE EMERGENCY SERVICES ON SPEED DIAL. JUST TAKE IT REAL CAREFULLY, FOLKS.
> 
> Bonus points to the people who know where Juliet the Hellhound is from.
> 
> Dolce = Sweet in Italian.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr! Find me at [horsemanonthehellmouth](horsemanonthehellmouth.tumblr.com)
> 
> I own nothing, Ghost belong to themselves etc.

You headed out into the morning sunshine, a bag full of books by your side. You had the day off today, and planned to spend it at the library, hunting through the stacks for something new to read. 

After catching the bus to the city centre, you began the short walk to the library. Reaching a crossing, you waited for the signal to change, nodding your head to _Mummy Dust_ in your earphones. As the green man flashed, you quickly glanced at the oncoming traffic before you crossed.

Car horns blared as a man in an SUV made an illegal right turn.

You barely felt the impact, the blackness swallowed you so quickly.

 

You woke up slowly, your head pounding. The hospital bed you were lying on felt hard as a rock, and there was no pillow between your head and the unyielding mattress. Slowly, you opened your eyes, seeing a high wooden roof directly above you. Large windows let in bright beams of sunlight that only made your headache worse. _This place doesn't look like a hospital_ ,you thought. 

Gradually, you managed to sit up, and found your initial assessment correct: you were indeed lying on a rock. An actual, literal slab of marble, placed inside this strange building. You were also dressed in a plain white shift, with no underwear or shoes to be found. Looking around, you saw what appeared to rows of pews and strange murals depicting odd creatures adorning the walls.

It looked like a church. _And if this was a church, you were lying on the altar. Like a sacrifice_. Shuddering at the thought, you crawled off the altar-stone and headed to the grand doors at the far end of the church.

 _Were you under anaesthesia, or asleep and recovering in a hospital? Or were you in a coma, having sort of weird lucid dream?_ , you wondered. You didn't think that you were dead, because you were pretty sure that the afterlife, if there even was one, absolutely did not look like this. Besides, the fact that there wasn't a scratch on you strongly suggested that you were dreaming. Otherwise, you reckoned you’d look like Sister Imperator in the latest video chapters. Carefully, you pushed at one of the vast double doors. To your surprise, it swung lightly and easily on its hinges without a sound, and you stepped outside onto sun-warmed green grass.

You couldn't see anyone in the front yard of the church, and the clearing in front of the building abutted directly onto a thick stand of trees that had no visible path or road through them. It was like the church had simply been dropped into the open clearing it sat on. Turning, you saw a small paved pathway that led to the side of the church, and, with nothing better to do, you carefully walked down it. At the end of the pathway, you could see what looked like a lushly manicured garden. 

As you got closer, you could better see the opulence of the church's grounds. Several intricate fountains sent glittering sprays of water into the sky, and vivid flowers bloomed everywhere, framing tall but neatly trimmed hedges. Ivy crept across several aged but still magnificent statues, and you stepped out into the garden, agape at the beautiful sights. Turning, you rounded a carefully manicured hedge and came upon a most unusual sight.

A man was lying on a dark blanket in the grass, completely naked. A pair of sunglasses lay abandoned next to him, and instead he had thrown one arm across his face, shading his eyes from the sun and throwing his features into shadow. Beside him rested a plate full of several cheeses and a glass of wine that shone a dull ruby in the sun.

‘Oh fuck.’

The man startled at the sound of your voice, his arm dropping away from his face as he jerked upright to stare at you.

You froze.

Not just because of the shock of being caught staring, or because of how handsome he was.

It was because of how _familiar_ his face was. It was decorated with the skull paint of Papa Emeritus the Third. Everything- his face, the white eye, his hair, the shape of his nose- it all matched. You'd stared at enough photos to know.

 _I really am dreaming_. This definitely was the product of some really good drugs. Because as much as you loved Ghost, you knew it was all just for show. There was no church in Linköping, Sweden, no nameless ghouls and no antireligious frontal figure; it was just a bunch of men in masks.

You didn't realise that you'd spoken your previous thought aloud until the man in the Papa Emeritus paint spoke. ‘You aren't dreaming, love. But I can forgive you for thinking that you are. Most people only get to see this-’ He trailed a hand down his (remarkably fit) chest ‘-when they're asleep.’

You nodded, unsure of what to say. Since when did hot naked people in your dreams tell you that you weren't dreaming? The-man-who-looked-like-Papa seemed to disregard your silence, cheerfully ploughing on with the conversation. ‘So what do you fancy today?’ He asked. ‘Not many are clever enough to make it through to here, these days. But you did, so I think I should reward you. Come over here, will you?’

Your feet seemed to move of your own accord, taking you closer and closer to the man in the skull paint, until finally you were close enough that you could reach out and touch him.

‘What do you want, Dolce?’ He licked his lips, staring up at you. ‘My fingers? My mouth? My-’ He reached down to cup himself, arching his back a little at the sensation.

Doing your best to ignore the (rather large) portion of your brain that screamed _this is your only chance to have sex with Papa Emeritus the Third, jump on his dick right now, you fool!_ You forced yourself to say ‘I don't know why I'm here.’

A second later, you almost smacked yourself in the head. _’I don't know why I'm here_.’ What sort of dumbass question was that? You were here because this is what your brain had cooked up while you lay unconscious in the hospital!

‘Well, I know why you're here.’ Dream-Papa said, his rich voice breaking you out of your thoughts. Suddenly, he lunged forward to grab onto your hips, pulling you backwards so you collapsed on top of him. Quickly, he rolled you over so he could pin you to the blanket. ‘I think-’ 

_a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder, right where it met your neck-_

‘that you-’ 

_another kiss, this time to your other shoulder-_

‘are here-’ 

_a long, slow lick from the hollow of your throat to the point of your chin-_

‘to have some fun.’ 

He ground his hips against you for emphasis.

‘With me.’

You were suddenly very, very aware of the thin shift you were wearing and how naked you were underneath it.

_Fuck it._

You tangled your hand in his hair and pulled him down so you could kiss the smirk right off his lips.

Dream Papa was a _very_ good kisser. All of the worries in your head dropped away, your mind completely consumed by the man. Distantly, you noted that his teeth seemed a little sharper than the average human’s, but then he slipped his tongue into your mouth, and even that thought fell away.

Eventually, he began to pull away from the kiss, breaking it with a teasing bite to your bottom lip. You couldn't help but admire his face in the sunlight. He was grinning slightly, and you could see now that his front teeth had sharp canines, like a dog. On his bottom lip, contrasting with his somehow unsmeared makeup, a bright red drop of blood gleamed, probably from when he bit your lip and accidentally broke skin.

‘Oops.’ He said, noticing your staring, his tongue darting out to lick away the stray droplet of blood. As soon as he did so, his face changed, his brow furrowing and his gaze turning from lustful to accusative.

‘What the _fuck_ are you doing here?’ He spat. ‘Who sent you? How in Satan’s name did you manage to get here? And how did you find me?’

‘I...I don't know?’ _What the fuck was Papa talking about? You didn't like this dream much anymore_.

‘ **Tell me**!’ Papa’s hands wrapped around your neck like iron bands, constricting your breathing. If he continued to hold you like that, you knew that you would be dead within minutes. Terror rose up inside you like a wave, and his grip tightened. ‘ **I said, tell me!** ’

‘ **I said I don't know**!’ You screamed, frantic. You really wanted to wake up now. _If I die here, do I die in real life?_ You thought, resisting the urge to laugh hysterically. Desperate, you kicked out with your feet, trying to get him to let go. Miraculously, your left foot connected with something that was, well, _hard_ , in a different way to the rest of Papa’s body. He wheezed, his eyes squinting in agony, and his vice grip on your neck loosened. You kicked again, and through a stroke of luck managed to connect solidly with his groin again. 

This time, when his grip loosened in pain, you jerked backwards, breaking free of his hold on your neck. Rising to your feel, you began to stumble away, your joints rubbery from fear. You felt bad for dealing such blows to dream-Papa, but then again, he was trying to kill you. Looking back, you saw that he was kneeling on the blanket, his hands balled into fists and his eyes closed, obviously trying to control himself. Suddenly his mismatched eyes opened, and he looked to stare at you. 

For a few horrifying seconds, you stared at each other. Then the part of your brain that controlled the ‘ _run fast from scary thing_ ’ instinct kicked in and you were sprinting away across the church grounds to the distant stands of trees that seemed to form the border to the church's grounds.

 

You staggered to a halt at the treeline, breathing hard. Normally, you wouldn't have been capable of running that far that fast, but apparently dreams gave you stats like a video game character. Before you had fully caught your breath, you walked into the (relative) safety of the trees. Thankfully, Papa hadn't chased you, but then again, did he need to?

_Could you really run from a nightmare when you were still dreaming?_

The dream-forest had an eerie quality to it. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something seemed _off_. Despite the bird calls that regularly filtered through the trees, there was no sign of animal life. When the wind blew through the forest, you could feel the breeze upon your skin, but no branches swayed with the gusts.

It was also cold, and you hugged your arms around your body, the thin shift you were wearing doing nothing to protect your body from the chill. A thin grey mist had begun to seep across the forest floor, and after you had taken only a few more steps, a sudden wall of fog rose in front of you, winding its way through the trees and continuing on in both directions as far as you could see. The mist was totally opaque, and when you looked up the wall of fog was so tall it seemed to be tethered to the sky. 

You reached out to touch the mist, and froze. Your hand didn't pass through the fog, as you expected. Instead, your hand was pressed against the fog, which felt solid. It was like a physical barrier; every time you attempted to push through it, it resisted you. 

Could you really reach the edge of a dream? Because apparently, you had. This dream had gone from weird to I-like-to-fuck-cans-of-beans crazy. You continued to wander, now utterly lost. The creepy fog was everywhere now, and you couldn't see anything that was more than a few feet away. You were also getting increasingly tired, the ratio in your head of fuzzy thoughts to actual brains steadily increasing.

And then something _moved_ in the fog, darting from behind one tree to the cover of another. The surge of adrenaline helped to clear your mind, and you turned and got another glimpse of the creature? thing? that was moving through the woods. It wasn't human- it didn't have the same upright posture, plus it was _bigger_ , taller than a large dog but with less mass than a bear, with a dark coat. You were pretty sure it had four legs, and it was getting closer.

A little too close, in fact. Though every instinct told to you to run, you knew you couldn't outrun the thing, and you were pretty certain that if it chased you, you'd be dinner within minutes, if not seconds. The creature came even closer, always staying hidden behind a tree trunk or bush. Frantically, you cast about for a weapon, but sadly, no AK-47 appeared in hour of need. You settled for a nearby fallen tree branch instead, and you held it in a two-handed grip in front of you, like a sword, and prepared to make your last stand.

‘Come and get me!!’ You screamed. Your voice shook slightly, and echoed eerily amongst the trees. 

Then the creature charged, and you had a brief glimpse of _large, black, teeth, white eyes_ before your closed your eyes, every function in your brain shutting down as the big, red ‘OH FUCK OH FUCK I’M GOING TO DIE OH FUCK’ alarm went off inside your head. Almost as an afterthought, you flung the stick at the creature in a last desperate attempt at defending yourself and braced for impact.

Nothing happened.

 _Had this just been another crazy fragment of your dream? Had you just dreamed the entire encounter with the creature?_ You waited a few more seconds, before you slowly peeled your eyes open, expecting sharp teeth to tear you open at any second.

The creature was standing in front of you, holding the stick in its mouth. It looked somewhat like a [Presa Canario](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=n-96cYsA53w), but larger- its head almost came level to your shoulders- and it had a longer snout. Instead of fur and flesh, it seemed to be composed of a solid black mist, the outer layer of of which seemed to ripple and shift like muscles were constantly flexing underneath its skin. The eyes were two glowing white orbs, like the beams from twin torches.

It looked at you, its head tilted slightly. Small wisps of mist randomly floated off it to dissipate into the air. It took a step forward and dropped the stick, then used its nose to push it closer towards you. The branch dripped with thick, silvery strings of drool. 

What a stroke of fucking luck. You’d just possibly saved your own life by accidentally inviting a nightmare creature to play fetch. Cautiously, you reached down towards the branch, and the creature gave a surprisingly doglike hopeful bark. 

Apparently giant, mutant dog-creatures weren't impervious to the seductive power of fetch. You picked up the soggy branch and hurled it again. It didn't go very far, probably because of its weight, but the dog-thing bounded after it, picking it up and eagerly bringing it back to you. This time, you picked up a smaller, lighter branch, and you were able to get a much greater distance on your next throw.

Several games of fetch later, you were kneeling on the ground, ignoring the twigs digging into your knees, and giving the dog-thing a belly rub. It felt like touching glass, but more malleable- slick and smooth, but it gave way when you pressed firmly on it. You didn't think you could call the dog-thing _adorable_ , but it definitely had a certain charm. A sort of murderous, I-could-bite-your-face-off charm, but a charm nonetheless.

When your arm grew tired, you stopped patting it and slumped against a nearby tree. The adrenaline rush from facing the dog-creature had long since faded, leaving you feeling drained and tired, and your headache had started again. All you wanted to do was sleep, and despite the hard ground, you were well on the way to the land of nod. 

You closed your eyes, and slept.

 

What seemed like only a few minutes later, you opened your eyes. The dog-thing was sitting right in front of you, doing what you thought it was doing a sort of doggie grin, but it was hard to tell. It could have been its ‘I've decided to eat you’ face. You glanced around the clearing, still half asleep, and froze.

Papa was standing there, statue-still, watching you.

_Well, at least this time he’s wearing clothes._

As you stared at him, he began a slow clap. ‘Well done. You've done well to escape Juliet for so long, seeing that you're human. Come here now, Juliet. That's a good girl.’

 _For a human? What did Papa mean by that?_ This dream just kept reaching new levels of weird. The dog-creature- _Juliet_ \- looked at Papa, then back at you. And gave a long, sorrowful whine.

‘What's wrong, darling? Did she hurt you?’ Papa began to walk across the clearing to Juliet, who shuffled closer to you and gave you a long, slobbery lick across the face. _Mmmmmm, moisturising_. 

As soon as Papa got closer, however, Juliet stood up, placing herself between you and Papa and growling at the man.

‘Juliet.’

Papa’s voice was low and commanding, and you almost wanted to roll on your back and show your belly like a dog. Juliet didn't back down, however, but continued to growl, a low rumble you could almost feel. Papa looked over her shoulder at you, his eyebrows furrowed in accusation.

‘Have you put a spell on her? Are you a witch, or did someone give you a charm?’ You shook your head, unable to speak. Everything suddenly felt like too much, too many thoughts in your head, and you opened your mouth to say _something_ and it all came pouring out.

‘I was hit by a fucking car and the next thing I knew, I was in this place where the former lead singer- the _fictional_ lead singer, mind you- of my favourite band apparently lounges around naked with wine and cheese! And this goddamn dream keeps getting weirder and weirder with this freaky fog and dog-like nightmare creatures and _I can't. Wake. Up._ ’ 

'Oh, you poor creature.’ Papa’s face seemed to soften slightly. ‘You really have no idea why you're here? 

‘Nope. No idea. Zero. Zilch. Absolute nada.’ You replied. _Wasn't that obvious already?_

'Well, first off. I hate to say it, but you aren't dreaming. You're in hell, and that means you've died. Unfortunately, I've had several assassins come into this place- some just won't let my soul have peace. I thought you were another demon, here to either give me company or seduce me then plunge a consecrated knife into my chest. When I tasted your blood, I knew you were human, and I wondered who had sent you. Most human souls burn up into madness down here. I thought you were going to use the surprise that you were human to put a dagger in me. But it seems you are innocent. Also, we’re supposed to keep it a secret, but I suppose it doesn't matter now- everything that you know as Ghost is real. 

The nameless ghouls really are ghouls- creatures from another dimension. Tobias- well, the man you know as Tobias- is a member of our church in Sweden who doesn't mind pretending that he's the mastermind behind all of this. Our church in Sweden is where we stage all of these things. 

We've gotten away with this for so long because you humans just can't comprehend that things like this really exist, because they intrude on your nice, safe, _normal_ life. Which you can't return to now, because you're in _my_ little corner of hell.’ 

'Well, why I here, in your so-called little corner of hell? Shouldn't I be with all the other people who kicked puppies or something?’ 

You didn't quite understand how you'd gotten in Papa’s little slice of hell, but you didn't mind. Getting to meet Papa (even with the more unsavoury things that had happened) was still miles better than whatever they had going on in heaven. 

Papa seemed to be thinking hard, if the crease in his brow was any indication. ‘I don't know, why you're here, honestly. I've never read about something like this happening except- never mind. However, I know what we could do.’ 

The gleam in his eyes practically screamed trouble, but you answered him anyway. ‘What?’ 

‘Sex.’ Papa declared, grinning broadly. 

'Sex? _Really_? Is that your answer?’ _Right here, right now, in the forest with Juliet watching?_

'Oh no.’ Papa frowned at you, but it was more mocking than serious. ‘Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. Yes is the answer.’ 

You rolled your eyes. ‘I should slap you.’ 

‘Can I choose where you slap me?’ Papa was pouting, an expression which made him look cute instead of ridiculous like it would on anyone else. 

'You're impossible.’ 

'I know.’ He crossed the distance between you, Juliet stepping aside to let him through, and picked you up in his arms. There was a sudden flare of orange light, and suddenly you were back inside the church, where Papa promptly tossed you backwards. 

For a single, heart-stopping second, you fell through through the air, and then your fall was cushioned by a thick, fluffy fur rug. _Bright red, of course. How very Papa._ You didn't think there was a bed in the church, but you were definitely off the ground. And you were near the back of the church too, which meant- 

_You were going to have sex on an altar covered with what looked like the pelt of a skinned Elmo, with a man styled as the anti-pope, in Hell. How very satanic._

Papa hopped up on to the altar, crawling on his hands and knees up your body until he was straddling your chest. 

'Having fun?’ He asked. There was a wicked glint in his eyes. 

You faked a yawn. ‘I'm pretty bored, actually.’ 

'Well then… let me _entertain you._ ’ 

Papa leaned down to kiss you, and you closed your eyes and surrendered to his touch. 

**Author's Note:**

> SMEXY TIMES IN THE NEXT CHAPTER MWA HA HA
> 
> More things will be explained in the next chapter. Hang tight.
> 
> Also Papa iii listens to both Queen and Robbie Williams. You know it's true.
> 
> Guess who loves comments and kudos? (Hint: It me.)
> 
> One more reminder that my Tumblr is [horsemanonthehellmouth](horsemanonthehellmouth.tumblr.com)


End file.
